Isn't it amazing?
They make us human, but at the same time, they are the reason why we experience the worse. Why does it felt like it is so difficult to live yet it is so easy to die? And feelings... Oh, how we feel love (platonic or romantic) from miles away, conjured by presence, words, and gestures. All manifested from our minds when I may have romanticized unhealthily at each and every relationship. I didn't learn, and that's probably what cost me.
My life wasn't smooth sailing, so after clocking hundreds of miles of dragging my baggage, this emotional collective actually came to my mind. Maybe I'll pocket them as stories, possibly as one deep collective that I held in the deepest part of my heart. This is an unsung song that echoes against the walls of my heart, beating, sending the stories through the cosmos, as I bounced between what-ifs and parallel universes.
There are people..
Actual people that I might have "kidnapped" and stowed them in the deepest part... of my heart. Well, okay the kidnapping part is a joke, but the thing about Cancerians, we dwell in the past a lot more than the present. As if we could have changed something, anything just to fix something that can't be fixed because it is... over.
Then I decided to set them free. I figured, in order to have a big heart again, I ought to free up some spaces, right? Just so I can love more again, just so I can eventually give more again. Just so, perhaps I'll eventually have the capacity and courage to love again. So this is a series of letters to the girls that I'd loved and disappeared. The ones who tugged my heartstrings, the ones whom I'd been together with, the ones who became my almost maybe, the "in-between", the ones whom I took a leap for but we didn't made it.
The writing might get emotional, as I drift through memory lane, going to places that I have been hiding from, actual places that I have hidden from in my heart. But I know I have to visit, every one of them and set them free. They are all caged up, in this place, that I would never forget. And I know I won't, but I have to at least let them go, and keep the beautiful parts of it.
I have to stop hoarding these persons because what they were when I met them... didn't exist anymore.
That's why I'll have to let them go.
I'm not sure how far this collective could go, as my fragile heart would be undergoing this major stress test. But I'll keep it at 7 letters for now.
And perhaps, one of these stories might too... set you free.
Looking back at the writings, I realized how far I'd came and how much I'd grown over time; how time wears down everything, how the gears in my heart rust with jade. How not feeling made me able to block out more things that I know and feel. How I could touched the scars without closing my eyes fearing that the pain could come.
It was nevertheless a blessed journey, to come out of it stronger, better and more mature of a man child that I was, and I could not stressed enough gratitude to the Universe and the people whom I'd crossed paths with who made me who I am today.